Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Roseanne hadn't experienced the rush of doing manual labor in forever.

Living with Murray for those years, she didn't have the maids waiting on hand and foot, but she steered clear of any heavy lifting. Even in the early days, when Murray's startup was getting off the ground when money was tight, they still had a cleaning lady come weekly for the house chores.

After finishing a can of paint, Roseanne stretched her aching back. Being pampered for years had made her soft. She went to the hallway, planning to bring in the rest of the paint.

But, in her haste, she knocked over the can. Though she acted quickly, a small spill still spread on her next-door neighbor's doorstep. She grabbed a mop instantly, but as she was halfway through cleaning, the previously shut door suddenly opened.

Their eyes met, and as she was about to apologize, she found herself face-to-face with a familiar person.

"You live here?"

"Owen?"

spoke at the

his feet, then

coincidence. "As you

live there because it was close to the

because of the lack of

hallway. "Sorry about

to the trash by Owen's side as she headed downstairs. "I'm heading down. Let me take that out for you." Owen didn't refuse. In return, he fetched a folding ladder from

Roseanne smiled. "Thanks."

painting became much more efficient. In just one morning, Roseanne had refreshed all the peeling paint in her apartment. It looked clean and orderly in no time. Later,

rubbed her shoulders, looking around. The warm glow of the lamps transformed the once-dingy space, making it feel

light-colored cotton duvet cover on the bed, which

in the afternoon were lined up by the window, radiating